


Various Patrick Stump Imagines

by evs14u



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M, Fluff, from my tumblr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 10:26:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13611432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evs14u/pseuds/evs14u
Summary: Various imagines from my Tumblr.





	1. Mean Tweets

Y/N opened twitter for the first time after her album came out and was flooded with responses taking a deep breath she said I have to read it one time or another. There were the usual haters of anything new and anything poppy. But there was also overwhelming support from fans from all over the world it turned out her album had actually trended while she had refused to open the app. 

She spent about 2 hours reading the most wonderful comments about her music something that had taken her so long to make and so long to really get right but it didn’t matter because they liked it or as Pete would say “they vibed with it” either way it was amazing. 

She hadn’t realized that her face had become full of tears in the time that she had been reading she was so full of happiness that it was almost impossible for something to drag her down but then she saw a tweet it was really going to be the last tweets for the evening but there it was, it read:

**@Y/N- Your album was the worst I have heard in a long time it was just a fall out boy rip off, just because your boyfriend can play music doesn’t mean you can!!!**

And

**@Y/N- Lets see what how many strings @PatrickStump had to pull to get this piece of garbage by the record label, oh wait @PeteWentz owns it, now it all makes sense.**

A renewed wave of tears came rushing down her face. She knew it, she knew they didn’t like her album and just wanted to please her so Patrick’s and her relationship wouldn’t break up this was supposed to be her big break this was going to be it but they had done it all for her rather than because they liked the music they had done it so they could keep her happy.

Y/N spent another hour reading hurtful tweets by this music critic, by the end the overwhelming support her fans had given her was washed away from her mind and all she could think about was the fact that the guys had just allowed her to live in this fantasy where she was good enough to put out a record. She tried everything to busy herself and think about other things but she kept looking back at her phone.

She knew Patrick would be over soon and that she should put on a good face there was no way she could live with the confirmation that she was just a vanity project.

_–Patrick’s POV—_

When I walked into Y/N apartment it was extra clean, which was a sign she had been stressing out about one thing or another for the last couple of hours, asking her now would be futile she would tell in due time. 

We had dinner I made her my famous mashed potatoes and steak something she always appreciated, when she wasn’t feeling great about something. Then she said she was tiered, after our clean up and just wanted to go to bed, rather than go out with guys as I had suggested celebrating her record.

As I saw her curled up in her bed looking at her phone and I could swear there where tears in her eyes, that was it, it broke me to see her internalizing whatever was making her feel bad.

“Y/N, What’s wrong talk to me?” I asked changing and hoping into bed with her

“It’s nothing,” she said instinctively curling her self tighter and farther away from me.

“It’s not nothing. Something is making you feel bad and I want find it and slay it,” I said knowing she loved when I acted like in her words “her dorky brave knight.”

“Ok there was just some stupid tweet you should have gotten it you  _were_  mentioned in it” she said in a small voice.

“You know I try as much as I can to stay off of that time eating machine: I said taking out m phone and saw a million tweets attacking this one guy (insert a name you hate) the first thing that struck me was that Pete had tweeted him.

**@Asshat Y/N has made an amazing album and had we not produced her record 10 other labels would have, she did us a favor not the other way.**

Everything in me vibrated with hate how could that lowlife take something Y/N worked so long and so hard and tear it to pieces. I typed with fury a response knowing I could not stand for this kind of injustice.

**@Asshat It is so shameful to see that you had to tear down Y/N to make yourself feel superior, her record is amazing and you have no basis for hating it except your own self-loathing**

You heard Y/N phone vibrating knowing she had you on alert, she read what you had written and smiled even if it was just a small one.

"Thank you and sorry I was so short with you earlier, it was just the self-doubt talking”

“Y/N trust me we wanted to help you make that record because we loved what you had made not because I love you or Pete thinks your hot or something it was all the music” with those words Y/N snuggled closer, and I could feel her breath a thank you before closing her yes and falling asleep.


	2. Stripper Poles and Competition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was sitting on the couch grading, and drinking some well deserved red wine. I heard the front door of my apartment being unlocked. Patrick was here. Tour life is hard for everyone. It is like one long business trip. I know he loves it, and it is good for the boys to spend time together. I put down my class’ papers on the Great Gatsby, and go to the door. It opened to reveal a very tired, but happy man in baseball cap holding a long package.

I was sitting on the couch grading, and drinking some well deserved red wine. I heard the front door of my apartment being unlocked. Patrick was here. Tour life is hard for everyone. It is like one long business trip. I know he loves it, and it is good for the boys to spend time together. I put down my class’ papers on the Great Gatsby, and go to the door. It opened to reveal a very tired, but happy man in baseball cap holding a long package.

“Y/N, did you order a stripper pole?” I gave him a quick peck on the lips, took the package from him, and examined it. It had my exact address on it, but I had never ordered a stripper pole. 

“You weren’t kidding. That’s stripper pole.”

“Why would I joke about something like that?” I threw the package on the counter, and pulled Patrick to the living room couch. 

“I have stopped trying to predict human behavior.”

“You’re a teacher.” 

“Today, I had to explain to a fifteen year old boy that drawing dicks on a classroom wall is wrong.” He started to giggle, but he stopped when he saw my face. 

“I’m sorry. I am just trying to imagine you trying to explain it.” I turned to face him and looked him deep in the eyes.

“Patrick, drawing phallic objects on school property is wrong.” We both exploded into giggles. Patrick stood up and said. 

“You enjoy your wine and I’ll make dinner.”

“No, today is your rest day. Tomorrow you have to go back to making a living, doing what the rest of us do in the shower before work.” He laughed and sat back down. He leaned in and kissed my forehead. 

“Tour life isn’t all fun and games.” I raised my eyebrows.

“Have you ever had to do a condom and banana demonstration?” He smiled, and wrapped his arms around me. 

“You wanna play tour life v. teaching?” I put my head on his chest and said.

“Only if you’re ready to lose.” 

“I had drink dumped on my head during a gig.” He thought he had started out strong, but nothing could match caged up horny teenagers.

“The day after Halloween I had a boy puke on me, while explaining to me that his homework was late.”

“Ok… one of our venues forgot to mention that they had just waxed the floors.” He was getting better, but if students are bad, nothing compares to parents.  

“On parent-teacher night, a father told me that it was my fault that his daughter was a lesbian, because I “dressed like 2 dime slut”. The funny thing is that he was staring at my chest the entire time.” The look on Patrick’s face was at the crossroads of disgusted and amused. Instead of a comeback he kissed me. I smiled, and for a minute nothing else mattered.   

“Declaring defeat?”

“Absolutely not, we had someone ransack our van, and take all the fuel.” Before I could stop myself I started laughing.

“It wasn’t funny.”

“No of course not, I am just imagining you guys sitting on the side of the road, with an empty van, and I can do you one better. I was administering detention in a sex ed classroom once and when they were all leaving a kid stole the uterus model, and I had to call the principle and say “Someone stole my uterus”.” Now we were both laughing. That was the great thing of Patrick coming over. It always ended in laughter.

A couple hours later I woke up under a blanket but still in Patrick’s arms. He had his phone out and that cute look on his face that meant he had had a burst of inspiration. I poked him an asked.

“Do we send the stripper pole back?”

“It does have your address on it.”

“I have no use for it. You could install it in one of the tour buses.” He feigned outrage.

“We have kids running around.”

“It’s not like I can donate it. I got it, I am going to give it to Pete for Christmas.” I kissed Patrick’s stunned face and settled myself back to sleep. At least Christmas was sorted.


End file.
